Twenty-Three Lucie
Twenty-Three
LUCIE
‘A -a-and let’s just pause a moment there …’
I can see the stage direction looming ahead. I know Theo can see it, too:
[He kisses her]
‘What now?’ Theo steps back, glaring at Ced.
Our reluctant director gives an apologetic smile, taking a not-so-subtle step back as if anticipating an explosion. I tense already because I know what’s coming.
‘Now, my darlings, we do the kiss . Both kisses, to be precise. First Romeo kisses Juliet and then she, emboldened by their first kiss, kisses him right back.’
It’s in the script. Both of us can see it. But we aren’t supposed to be doing it this time, are we?
I see my own horror mirrored in Theo’s eyes.
‘Aren’t we just marking it out for now?’ he asks.
‘No.’
‘Ced, dude, it’s a first run. Setting our moves down is more important than—’
Ced glares at Theo. ‘More important? My dear Mr Larkin, to know Shakespeare is to give him one’s all. From first rehearsal to closing night. Those kisses are in the script, therefore they are key.’
‘We’ll do them when it matters,’ I offer, catching Theo’s eye, then quickly averting my gaze.
‘Lucinda, would that it were that easy. Chemistry is not a problem for the two of you, but it counts for nothing if the kiss isn’t there. You might think you can wing it, but do that and you will fail.’
‘It’s a first run,’ I argue back. ‘We’re going to be rehearsing for the next five hours.’
‘And the kisses are part of that.’
‘They’re just stage kisses. They’ll happen when they need to,’ Theo insists, looking at me for support. Shakily, I nod back.
‘You think?’ Ced folds his arms. ‘I have seen many a promising Romeo crumble in the wake of a bad kiss, and many a bright-eyed Juliet wimp her way into returning a woeful one. This is the moment your audience longs for, during all fourteen scant lines before these two lovebirds start smooching. Believe me, loves, the kisses are all that count. So hop to it, both.’
He isn’t letting go of this, is he? We’re going to have to kiss, right now .
I check the crew room for exits but there aren’t any that Ced isn’t currently body-blocking. I don’t have a choice. The kiss looms large between us like a suspended mid-air anvil in a Warner Brothers cartoon.
Cheeks burning, I resume my spot. Theo reluctantly follows.
I know he doesn’t want to kiss me. And I certainly didn’t have kissing Theo Larkin on my list of desirable activities today.
But why does he have to smell so good up close?
‘Being on the same stage is a start.’ Ced rolls up his sleeves and moves beside us. ‘Closer, loves. Good. Now, Romeo, the first kiss is your responsibility. Romeo tells Juliet to stand still, as a saint accepting a sinner’s offering, so this is all on you. Now, reach for the object of your sudden and all-conquering desire …’
This is torture. I close my eyes, willing myself anywhere but here. Theo’s groan confirms I’m not alone in this wish.
‘How?’
Even with my eyes closed I can sense Ced’s disdain. ‘Theodore Larkin, if you tell me you’ve never held a woman before, I shall brand you a liar and a scoundrel. I read the gossip pages, love. I’ve seen the evidence.’
‘Make it quick,’ I hiss, my teeth gritted. I just want this to be over.
‘Okay, keep your hair on.’
Keep my hair on? It’s hardly the language of love, is it? Shakespeare can rest easy: he clearly has nothing to fear from Theo Larkin.
He places a tentative hand on my shoulder. I open my eyes as he edges closer, not daring to look at him.
It’s just a rehearsal. He’s just another actor …
I jump as my forehead bumps awkwardly against Theo’s chest when he moves too quickly towards me. ‘Ow!’
‘Sorry.’
‘It’s okay.’ I step back, Theo’s hand retreating back from the charged air between us as if repelled by a reversed magnetic force.
‘What the hell was that?’
Our colleague is glaring at us.
‘Ced, man, I’m trying …’
‘Could’ve fooled me, sunshine.’
Theo lunges for me again but Ced bustles between us, pushing him out of the way. ‘No, no, no, stop , dear. It’s a tender embrace, not a cage-wrestle.’
Theo strides away to the edge of the room, shaking his head.
Ced eyes us both. ‘This needs to be studied, every move a step towards the ultimate declaration of love between these two. We make the audience wait – and then we bloody well give them something worth waiting for. Without these two kisses – this statement of intent – none of the rest of the play makes sense. Now, watch me.’
Slowly, he takes my hand in his and gently presses it to his heart.
‘Step one: declare your heart. Look deep into her eyes, catch the surprise that your touch renders in her.’
I follow his direction, looking up to observe my friend. We’ve worked together long enough for me to trust him implicitly. Besides, it’s a relief to not be so close to Theo.
‘Good. Step two, bring your free hand around, thus.’ He moves his fingers to gently cup my chin. ‘Gaze longingly at her. She is your world, your breath. You reach for her as if reaching for the greatest treasure, a gem you must catch and keep safe.’ He smiles down at me. ‘Eyes on me now, love. Imagine I’m the object of all your desires and this singular moment is what you’ve yearned for – this is where I know your acting prowess will be tested.’
Despite my embarrassment, I smile at him. ‘I’ll do my best.’
‘Total pro, as ever, darling. Now, Theo, step three: deftly draw your priceless jewel softly to you, thus …’ Controlled as a ballet move, Cedric inclines his body slowly towards mine, stopping inches from me. ‘The kiss follows from this – I won’t subject Lucie to my attempt, but you must , Theo.’ He holds the pose for a beat and then steps back, offering me a gracious bow. ‘Chapeau, my darling.’ After a wink meant only for me he turns to Theo. ‘You see, sir?’
I break position and look at my co-star.
Theo is staring at us, wide-eyed.
‘Problem, Theo?’ Ced asks.
‘I – I don’t … No, no problem,’ he replies, stumbling over his words. ‘That was – like a dance.’
Delighted, Ced claps his hands. ‘Exactly! We choreograph every heartbeat of this moment, darlings. Even though it’s a snippet of a single scene from the play, we treat it as if you are the two dazzling stars, embracing centre-stage in front of audiences too afraid to breathe for fear of destroying the moment.’
‘Right. Okay.’ Theo risks a look at me.
At least we’re united in our dread of what’s coming.
Ced rubs his hands together. ‘Let’s go again, then. And shall we try for a modicum of dazzle this time?’
I face Theo, willing my nerves to behave.
He’s not Theo. And I’m not Lucie. It’s Romeo and his Juliet …
‘And … scene …’
‘ Thus from my lips, by yours, my sin is purged …’
Theo takes my hand, placing it against his chest. I stand my ground but make myself gaze at it as Juliet would, the thrill of first contact obliterating all else. His hand is warm over mine, the fabric of his T-shirt soft beneath my palm. The gentle pad of his heart lies beyond …
‘Good. Now keep your eyes locked, loves. Lucie, raise your chin a little to signal you’re ready for his kiss.’
I follow Ced’s direction, seeing a flicker of fear in Theo’s brown eyes. They’ve caught the reflection of the crew room’s spotlights, becoming pools of liquid chocolate.
No, not Theo’s eyes. Romeo’s .
‘Theo, slow down. Reach your hand to touch her face like it’s a reverent moment – Romeo has compared her to a saint in his excuse for kissing her now. But increase the passion, too. Romeo’s entire world pivots on this moment.’
‘No pressure, then,’ Theo mutters.
It makes me laugh and he follows suit, our nerves spilling out.
‘Don’t break the moment. Pause. Refocus.’
Stuffing away our giggles, we resume our pose. When stillness returns, Theo’s chest rises beneath my hand in a long inhale.
It will be over soon. I just have to let it happen.
I take a breath … let my gaze linger on the man facing me.
His fingers rest, feather-light, on the curve of my jaw, the slightest pressure from them lifting my chin a little more. My skin prickles beneath his touch. I force my focus on Juliet, who is waiting and longing for her first kiss, with all the promise it contains.
‘Take your time …’ Ced sounds breathless, which only adds to the tension. I don’t want to think what he’s seeing, forcing my attention onto every beat of our choreographed embrace.
Theo is moving closer, his gaze dipping from my eyes to my lips, as the air between us grows warm. I feel my breath quicken, leaning into the moment as Juliet Capulet, not Lucie Hart: as a young woman discovering the magic of a soon-to-be stolen kiss. I see his lips part slightly, feel my own mirror his. His thumb sweeps in a gentle arc across my cheek as he fills my view, and then …
… then our lips meet. Soft, warm, welcoming …
‘Excellent!’
We pull back. Shaken, we hold one another’s gaze for a beat – then Theo’s hands release me and we finally move apart.
It’s done. We survived.
It wasn’t horrific.
I jog over to my rucksack to grab my water bottle, feeling a sudden need to extend the space between us.
It wasn’t the trial I was dreading it might be. But it wasn’t just marking out, either.
What was it?
I keep my back turned to my colleagues as I drink, Ced’s gentle directions to Theo lost behind the slam of my heart. I need to calm down. Clearly I built this up, worrying over the first stage kiss far more than I needed to. In a minute we’ll need to repeat it and move straight into Juliet’s response. And again, and again, for the next few hours, until the scene is performance ready.
I will my racing pulse to slow, my burning cheeks to calm. I don’t dare look at Theo, not wanting to see his reaction – because either way it changes things between us. If he appears unmoved I’ll instantly feel unprofessional beside him, which I’ll hate. I am more than over the awkwardness of stage kisses, even though it’s been a couple of years since I last had to perform one. But if Theo is as shaky as I feel, that might make everything a million times worse.
The moment our lips met, though brief, felt like the culmination of something. A line drawn in the sand. But did I feel like that because I was invested in Juliet’s response, in her heart’s aching and her body’s reciprocation? Or else … ?
I don’t want to think of what else it might be.
‘Lu? Are you good to resume?’ Ced is watching me with thinly veiled concern when I look across the crew room.
‘Yeah, sure,’ I reply in my lightest, most carefree tone, returning my water bottle to my rucksack and walking back over.
Theo is a little flushed, just a hint of caution in his smile. ‘Ready to get your own back, Juliet?’
I laugh as confidently as I can, but I can’t completely hide the shiver of nerves in my voice. ‘Question is, are you ready, Romeo?’
‘Slightly threatening,’ he grins, and I’m relieved to hear uncertainty in his reply, too.
Ced is watching us both with a mixture of amusement and worry. ‘Right-o. Now, before we recommence the scene, we need to walk through Juliet’s decidedly non-saint-like response.’ He offers me an apologetic smile. ‘Your aim is to make Romeo’s kiss look like a chaste peck by comparison to yours. Passion, love. Shockingly so, for a character so young and presumably naive of the world. Poor sweet innocent, never-seen-a-man-before Miranda she is not.’
‘No pressure, then,’ I reply, Theo’s hearty laugh a surprising act of solidarity.
Ced shakes his head at us both. ‘You two will be the death of me. Behave , or I will make you repeat these kisses ad infinitum …’
‘Sorry,’ we say together, grinning as we do.
It’s better like this, mucking about like unruly kids instead of taking ourselves too seriously. The tension between us is gone and fun returns to the crew room where it’s been sorely missed. I think Theo feels it, too, although he’s harder to read. He’s smiling for now, at least. That’s promising.
‘Let’s begin in the position we ended,’ Ced suggests. ‘After Romeo’s kiss, but while you are still in your tentative embrace.’
We assume the position once more, Theo’s hand against my face, mine held to his chest. It’s becoming familiar already, not edged with stress and worry like before. It might not last as we choreograph Juliet’s kiss but it’s a promising starting point. If we can put professional distance between what we’re doing and what’s written in the script, it will be better. Easier, for certain.
‘Good. Now, Juliet, you’re breathless after Romeo’s kiss and adrenaline takes over. So …’ Ced waves his hand to prompt me to continue.
I pull back from Theo, the last glimmer of fun still present between us. It helps me focus on the joy of the moment for these two star-crossed lovers.
‘Then have my lips the sin that they have took. ’
Theo laughs.
‘ Sin from my lips? O trespass sweetly urged!
Give me my sin again.’
‘Right, Juliet, that’s your invitation. Go get your man!’
Ced’s worryingly enthusiastic stage direction breaks the moment. Theo cracks before I do. Still holding each other we descend into giggles. I lean my head against his chest, his hand braced against my shoulder. It’s completely unprofessional but exactly what we need. When we finally regain some composure, Ced is staring at us, arms folded.
‘What was that?’
‘That was you cracking us up,’ I say. ‘ Go get your man! ’
It’s enough. Ced’s boom of laughter fills the crew room.
‘This is impossible. Between you two nose-bumping and me getting carried away with my stage directions we have no hope of getting this right.’
‘Don’t sweat it, Ced. We needed that laugh,’ Theo offers. ‘You’re doing great, honestly. We can’t do this without you.’
‘I feel like the sheepdog that got the bloody-minded flock,’ Ced mutters, setting us all off again. It’s a brief respite and all of us know we have to get this right in the small amount of time available, but our laughter bonds us far more than hours of earnest practice would.
When our mirth subsides, I hold up my hand. ‘We’ll do it right this time. How do you think Juliet should do this? Is it a fast, passionate grab, or a slow, savoured movement?’ I look between Ced and Theo. When neither speaks, I add: ‘Or something in between?’
‘I think slow grab,’ Theo says.
‘Slow grab?’ I repeat, the fizz of fun appearing again.
‘Don’t start laughing again, for heaven’s sake, or we’ll be here all night.’
‘Sorry, Ced.’
‘Okay, try this. Starting positions again … Good. Now go in quickly but the moment you kiss the passion appears. Slow it down a beat after that initial contact and show them savouring it. They’re discovering something new. We should see Juliet grow in confidence as she does so.’
‘So it isn’t a competition. It’s an act of discovery.’
Ced claps his hands. ‘Yes, Lu, exactly. Let’s try it.’
We go from the same place, Juliet inviting another kiss and Romeo accepting. And then I rush my lips to Theo’s, counting a beat in my mind and then pressing in. My arms reach around his neck, his hands lace at my back, pulling me closer.
All the time, Ced directs. A little more … Lu move your head to the right … Closer, Theo … Deepen the kiss … Take your time … Beat – and another beat … It’s what has to happen as we work this out, but I’m halfway through, trying to listen to his instructions, when the moment becomes too much. I stay there because I have to but I feel Theo’s hands tense a little. After an age, Ced directs us to pull away and fresh air rushes between us as I step back.
We’re both a little shaken, risking glances at one another while Ced advises us.
‘That was good, but it needs to be far less stilted. Theo, when Lu makes initial contact, make it clear that Romeo is taken aback by her equal passion. This kiss is so much more than a stolen snog at a party.’
‘Yeah, fine.’ There’s no trace of his humour from before.
‘And Lu, don’t frown when you’re in there.’
‘Was I? I didn’t think I was.’
Ced shakes his head. ‘I see why you did it but with our audience as close as they will be we can’t risk them misconstruing that for Juliet not wanting the kiss or thinking better of her actions.’
I don’t know why I feel I’m being judged but irritation travels across my shoulders. ‘It’s the first time we’ve done it, Ced …’
‘Of course. And next time will be better. Let’s go again.’
The next time is worse. And the time after that. I’m overthinking it: putting too much pressure on myself to convey everything that Juliet is thinking and feeling during that moment. Theo has no such problem during the first kiss because it’s all on him. Why can’t I get it right?
It doesn’t help that being so close to Theo is putting me on edge. Until today the most our characters have done is hold hands and almost touch each other. This constant contact of our lips is disconcerting to say the least. I thought it would get better the more we did it, but after an hour of repeated rehearsal I’m completely on edge.
I feel awful for Ced. He’s trying his hardest and his directions are wonderful, but I know he can see us become increasingly tense and inflexible.
‘I need coffee,’ he announces, leaving Theo and me on the marked out practice area. ‘Anyone else?’
‘Hey, why don’t you take a proper break?’ Theo suggests. ‘I think Lucie and I should run this by ourselves.’
‘I’m supposed to be here,’ he protests. ‘Pheels said …’
‘Ophelia isn’t in until lunchtime,’ I counter. I don’t want to agree with Theo, but this constant repetition with Ced’s barked orders is getting us nowhere. ‘Take thirty minutes, go to Cheerily’s and tell Cass I’ve sent you. Have a break, regroup and when you get back we’ll have sorted it.’
Will we ?
Ced sighs. ‘Are you sure?’
I send him a smile. ‘Absolutely. You’ve earned it. When you come back we’ll run your pieces, too.’
‘I’d appreciate that, Lu.’ He grabs his wallet, stuffing it into his back pocket. ‘Okay, I’ll see you in a bit.’
He actually runs out of the door.
‘How bad is it?’ Theo asks behind me.
‘Pretty bad.’ I watch the crew room door close in Ced’s wake and then turn back. ‘I’m sorry, I don’t know what’s happening.’
‘Me either. But us both trying to work it through while Ced directs is impossible.’
He’s right. I return to the stage area, facing him. ‘I hope he doesn’t take it personally. It’s my problem …’
‘Ours,’ he corrects, reaching for my hand. ‘I think we’re overthinking everything.’
I let him hold my hand, needing reassurance in this suddenly quiet room. ‘It’s years since I’ve had to do a stage kiss. But you do this all the time – what are we getting wrong?’
Theo shakes his head. ‘Honestly? I’ve no idea. This has to be easier than we’re making it.’
‘Not romantic at all, is it?’ I offer, with a wry smile. I know stage kisses aren’t ever, but we are magnificently proving the theory.
‘Even though everyone thinks it is.’ His brow furrows. ‘Hang on, that’s it. We need to focus on the myth, not the reality.’
‘Sorry?’
He drops my hand and faces me. ‘Kiss me.’
‘What?’
‘I’m Romeo. You’re Juliet. Completely in love. Fate sealed. Kiss me.’
‘How?’
He moves closer. ‘Don’t think of how. Just do it.’
Panic rises in me. ‘But Ced said …’
‘Argh, would you forget what he said? Ced isn’t here. We are. So kiss me.’ He raises an eyebrow. ‘Unless you’re too chicken …’
That does it. I can resist most provocation, but Theo just found my weakness. Nobody calls Lucie Hart ‘chicken’.
I place my hands either side of Romeo’s face and pull him into a kiss. It isn’t hesitant or chaste, over-thought or worried over. It’s passionate, deep and as close to real as I can fake it.
And then his arms are around me, his breath hot on my lips, and all of a sudden it doesn’t feel like we’re Romeo and Juliet any more …
‘Bravo!’
We break apart, breathless. Across the crew room, Ophelia is pink-cheeked and beaming.
‘Now that’s a kiss! The Bard would heartily approve.’ She waves a hand in front of her face. ‘I knew you two had chemistry but my word, you’re dynamite! We’ll have those audiences falling out of their seats tomorrow. Bravo, my darlings!’